Back home
by Fallon Kristerson
Summary: Shiro would have never imagined it to be like this. Sheith Angst Week Day 6


Sheith Angst week

Day 6: Torture

Warnings: I had to use google translate for some very easy words. And I wrote dem instead of them a few times. That's how tired I am. Enjoy.

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 **Back home**

He hadn't imagined his return this way. He wasn't the type to chase after recognition and fame, however he had been many times to space to know what it is to come home to cheering, ovation ceremonies and festivities. He knew they weren't waiting for him, and yet he wasn't prepared for what he got. It felt like he imagined had been the migratory crisis from decades ago. He was tackled down, treated like a prisoner in his own country. The tied him down on a dissection table and didn't listen to anything he had to say. They were completely deaf to the danger that was coming straight to their little, helpless planet. Shiro had seen the destruction the Galra were capable of, he wasn't going to hide it from Earth.

If Americans were only a tad readier to listen. Now he knew what it felt like for Admiral Sanda to deal with heard headed guys like him and Sam.

Three days or so had to pass before they took the constraints from him and imprisoned him in a white, sterile room. He had never been in one like these but he had never looked too much into the investigation wing of the garrison, where he assumed he was. It had been impossible for him to recognize any of the white dressed scientist who studied him, they all wore full head masks and did not interchange words with him. No one came to talk. He thought he was about to reach the point where he would question if this was still the year he thought or if he had landed on Earth at all. It had looked like Earth though…

He felt numb when they put him in that clean cell. He could barely walk, his limbs felt numb and he felt starved. The fed him, still the damages he brought with him from outer space wasn't going to be cured with a bit of soup, a piece of bread and an apple. And his mental state was yet another issue. Not knowing the exact amount of time passing was getting on his last almost intact nerves, the paranoia of being suddenly invaded by the Galra wasn't letting him sleep and he had almost no voice left in his throat after trying to scream at the iron door.

Humans could be so, so stupid sometimes and yet he wasn't prepared for the rest that was coming to him.

Shiro knew he had to escape. He was a good fighter, however was nowhere near his top form. If only he wasn't exhausted and weak like an abandoned new born kitten. They always came in groups, he could never overpower them. His only advantage was his prosthetic arm, which they hadn't figured out how to separate from him without hurting him. The technology of his new arm was way ahead of any human technology. Maybe he wouldn't need to fight if he could use it on the door. He had inspected the door oh so many times and it had seemed futile, just like he also knew there were guards outside. But… he looked at the ventilation shaft. He would've never dreamed of fitting there.

Well, he should be thin enough by now, he though ironically.

He had tried open it before but never using his alien hand. He needed some seconds to focus, a brief moment clearing his mind to bring back a distant memory of himself using it. He knew he had, there was something instinctive about it. He felt a slight burn when it started to glow and "now or never" he thought, taking the grid and pulling it out. Before he could stop himself, he had thrown it across the room. It landed with a horrific crash and he cursed himself. Without having anymore time he squeezed himself into the ventilation system. He thought he read steps and shouts but didn't stay to find out. It was difficult to go forward, he wasn't sure if he was getting anywhere, yet somehow, he found another exit. Making sure he didn't hear anyone near, he pushed himself out. He looked around and then cursed. It seemed like he had landed in another laboratory room. Lucky for him, the door wasn't reinforced like his had.

Then he froze.

He almost didn't notice there was someone else in the room. Strapped to the table just like he had been, someone way laying still. He almost didn't _recognize_ them even though he knew this person.

"Keith?" He almost chocked on his on voice. No, that wasn't Keith. He just couldn't be, not his Keith. This person… whoever this was, they looked dead. Except for the slow, almost inexistent, breathing.

And then, weakly, they opened their eyes.

Shiro's heart almost halted for good. Those eyes. Yellow, yellow sclera and small, sharp irises. Violet irises.

Galra eyes.

"Shiro."

It was Keith's voice. And yet it wasn't.

Before he could even assimilate what was happening, he loosened the straps. However, Keith didn't move. He bent over him, looking at him with fear but at the same time with longing swelling in his chest. Why was he seeing the thing he dreaded the most and the one he loved so desperately at the same time?

"Keith?" he asked again, stuttering. "Are you… is it really you?" He pushed the belts aside and tried to move him. It was like handling paper. He has purple spots all over his skin, some cuts that seemed sewn very carefully. And lots of red punctures on his arms.

"What happened?" he whispered as he tried to help him up but Keith's dead weight pushed them down when he came too close to the tables edge. Shiro managed to hold him as they sat on the floor.

Keith gulped.

"I… seems like I'm not as human as I thought I was." His voice was trembling and not only because of how weak he was. Shiro squeezed him closer to him, traying to hold him together. "You see it… they… I'm not human… I don't know what I am but they…"

He didn't say anything else. Keith wouldn't say it out loud but Shiro could see it. If a missing legendary pilot was treated like a dangerous animal upon arrival, there was no good outcoming for an orphan with yellow eyes and… were those fangs?

"Since when… have you…? Looked like this?" he inquired, unsure how to word it.

"The eyes… when I almost drowned," Keith answered reluctantly. "The fangs when they injected… I don't know… I don' know, Shiro…"

"For how long?" he continued before being able to stop himself.

"I've… been here for a while… I don't know."

His voice broke. Tears he didn't knew he still had began to swell in his eyes and glided down his cheeks until they got lost in the fabric of Shiro's Shirt. Keith wasn't the same as he remembered him. He was thinner, he could easily recognize every single bone under his skin. And the already mentioned Galran traits. How was this even possible? The Galra had never been there… Had they?

He looked again at the lean body in his arms. His skin wasn't purple because of the beating he had imagined. Pushing Keith to the edge seemed to be bringing out every Galra trait he had seen far away from home. He knew that skin color. It was burnt into his memory and for a second he almost let him fall. His human color was still predominant but for how long were they going to grind him? Until there was only dust left?

The hatred boiling in his guts told him everything he had to know. He didn't care about Keith's heritage, Keith had never harmed him. He didn't care about any of those things, eyes, fangs, skin… Keith was still calling his name like he was the only person in his world. It only sounded more heartbreaking now.

An alarm beeped on the door and he heard steps. It opened and before he could see anything he heard charging guns. They had found him. Them. And they were cornered. Fighting on his own had been one thing but protecting Keith and fight himself at the same time was another. Going back to the ventilation system was now a trap. He looked up to the door and the men now blocking it. A red, bright point was on his chest, followed soon by more. "Put your hands up" a stern voice commanded. Shiro held Keith tighter.

His last thought was maybe Earth deserved to be colonized. For what they had done to Keith.


End file.
